


Mistakes Are My Thing

by Tahlruil



Series: Faking It and Making It [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Insecure Bucky Barnes, Insecure Tony Stark, Language, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Winteriron Holiday Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-14 16:54:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9194330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tahlruil/pseuds/Tahlruil
Summary: Pepper Potts is getting married, and Tony is over the moon for her - he just wants her to be happy, after all. Her wedding will be the best, happiest day in history, because she deserves it... the only problem is, to keep her happy, he has to bring his boyfriend. The one he invented just over a year ago to keep her from worrying about him after their breakup. The one based on a guy who he's pretty sure doesn't even like him. At least Bucky agreed to go with him and pretend to be his boyfriend for the event.This issucha mistake.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [singingwithoutwords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/singingwithoutwords/gifts).



> My fic for the 2016 WInterIron Holiday Exchange for singingwithoutwords!
> 
> The prompt I (eventually) chose was: "No powers au: Tony's ex Pepper is getting married. He's been invited to the wedding, along with the boyfriend he claimed to have so Pepper wouldn't worry so much, and who doesn't actually exist. Tony panics and runs to the first person he can think of - Bucky - and begs him to be his fake boyfriend. Wacky hijinks and fake dating/mutual pining are had."
> 
> I hope this fits the bill!
> 
> I started a fic for just about every single prompt I was given (and finished most of them), because I have serious commitment issues that I was unaware of until this exchange. :'D I also seem to be almost completely incapable of keeping within the range of the suggested word count. XD This one ended up being the best, in my humble opinion, despite being entirely too long, so I hope you like it! <33

This had been _such_ a big mistake. Huge. Biggest of his life, and that was really fucking saying something. Messing up was kind of his Thing, and there were some doozies in his history – trusting Obie with his company and his well-being had been at the top of the list for a long time, but had finally, finally been edged out.

Tony didn’t know if that was cause for celebration or a reason to lock himself in the workshop so he could weep into (and drink) a few dozen glasses of scotch. 

Either way, this was his new biggest mistake, and it sucked because this really should be a happy day. He’d loved Pepper Potts with the whole of his damaged heart while they were dating, and when they were over it had almost ended him too. Getting back to being friends had been hard but so very, very worth it; he was glad that he could honestly say that he’d put their rocky patch behind them, and he just wanted her to be happy. He loved her still, but it was different – it was a softer feeling now, with less urgency, and it no longer consumed his everything. Learning a year ago that she was (hesitantly) re-entering the dating scene had him hopeful and giddy with excitement for her future. Though he’d never admit it to anyone but JARVIS and Dum-E, he’d wept with joy when an invitation to her wedding arrived in his daily pile of mail.

So this should have been a good, beautiful day with nothing at all to distract from his darling Pepper’s joy. But keeping Pepper happy before she finally fell into the right relationship had been _hard_ , and he’d planted the seed of his biggest mistake a long time ago. Pep had worried about him when they were just leaving that strange in-between phase of theirs and she had no one else to fret over. Before the disastrous outing that had ended in Happy punching out her actual date and sweeping Pep off her feet, she’d spent half her time trying to mother Tony from across the country. So he’d told her a little white lie to put her at ease – he invented a boyfriend. 

One who was flirty and just a little dirty, but who was also sweet and attentive. Someone who looked after him with fond exasperation and who curbed some of Tony’s self-destructive tendencies because he wanted to be better for his man. Someone who really, really didn’t want to be in the press, who felt that going public would ruin their fledgling relationship. He told her about a guy who didn’t care about Tony’s money or his press persona, who liked Tony for Tony and not the ‘Stark’ at the end of his name. He told her all about his dream guy, the one who didn’t exist except in his head, and she’d bought it. Not because she was dumb, but because Tony was a great liar… and he maybe borrowed _just_ enough detail from real life, from a guy he’d met after Pep moved away and he maybe had a teeny, tiny crush on.

He’d run into Steve Rogers (literally) in his favorite hipster coffee shop. The punchy little blond was adorable, and Tony had tried to take him under his wing only to discover that Steve had already done the same for him. Didn’t stop them from fighting like cats and dogs half the time, but he suspected Steve enjoyed their disagreements almost as much as he did. It worked for them, and after several friend-dates that solidified their bond, Steve introduced him to James Buchanan Barnes, his best friend.

And Tony was lost.

‘Bucky’ (which was an awful name, and part of Tony died every time he had to say it) was awesome – the perfect combination of sweet and salty, nurturing and sarcastic. He was also insanely hot, and had drawn Tony in like a moth to a flame. Not that he knew it, or that he’d be remotely interested if he did; he and Bucky weren’t even really friends. He put up with Tony because Steve had brought him home – Tony often felt like a stray cat, indulged because he was there and Bucky was a bit of a mother hen, but if he disappeared there wouldn’t be any tears shed in his honor. The few times Bucky’d been the one to perform introductions to the other people in their circle, Tony had always been ‘Steve’s friend’, not ‘my friend’ or even ‘our friend’; that lack of acknowledgment made things pretty fucking clear, in his opinion. He belonged to Steve, and if he couldn’t even be Bucky’s _friend_ after several months of hanging out, he sure as shit wasn’t going to put himself out there and ask for more.

Using him as fantasy fodder was still totally acceptable though, and then he became the foundation of Tony’s fake boyfriend – he even stole the least offensive of his names to use. ‘James’ had quite a few of Bucky’s quirks, all his sass, and definitely his body. And okay, maybe sending a picture of him to Pepper had been overkill, but he had to sell the story. And yeah, he should have ‘ended’ the relationship months ago, but he _liked_ not being single. It gave him an excuse to behave without Pep getting suspicious and worrying even more. He had a reason to stay at home in his workshop and keep himself mostly out of the tabloids. When he didn’t leave parties and galas with some hot young thing draped all over him, Pepper sent him smiles of approval and happiness instead of frowning and wondering if he was off to drink himself half to death. He really, really should have ended it after Pep let it slip to Rhodey; his best friend was pissy for weeks over not being the first to know, and then began demanding to meet James the next time he was home on leave. It would have been a great time to give up the ghost, but… well.

He was the smartest idiot on the planet, as Steve liked to say.

Tony clung to his pretend relationship the way he’d wanted to cling to Pepper, until it was too late. He’d kept up the ruse long enough that the little ‘+1’ on the invitation had a hand-written request next to it to bring James. He wouldn’t – couldn’t – break up with his boyfriend right before the wedding. It would make Pepper sad and worried again, and her smile wouldn’t be at its brightest; Pep and Happy deserved the smiliest, happiest wedding ever, and he wasn’t going to ruin that. And he couldn’t just bring some random dude who could act like James, because he’d been a fucking dumbass and sent several pictures snapped in secret on his phone.

So to keep Pep happy, he’d gone to Bucky and explained the situation, leaving out a few of the more embarrassing parts. Bucky still really didn’t need to know about his crush, after all, or why Tony _needed_ him to be the fake boyfriend. He explained that part away by saying Steve was a terrible, terrible liar (truth) and that he was afraid that hiring someone off the street would leave him vulnerable to all sorts of bad, bad things (true, but definitely not the actual story). Bucky’d watched him for long, long moments… then agreed. He’d _agreed_ and made Tony promise to buy him some of his favorite, expensive vodka in return, and now Tony was in _hell_ on Pepper’s special day.

Because Bucky-as-James was _perfect_. He’d been at Tony’s side the whole day, prosthetic arm curled loosely around his waist. That easy hold went tighter (possessive, the more insane part of Tony’s mind purred happily) whenever someone tried to flirt with either of them. James was brilliant at telling such interlopers to fuck off in the politest way possible – some of the morons even left smiling, with no idea they’d just been insulted. Usually that was Tony’s area of expertise, but he was too busy watching James in awe, too lost in enjoying all the casual touches the man delivered with his free hand. James was very demonstrative, just like Tony’d always pretended he would be, and seemed to constantly be brushing fingers over his arm to get his attention, or pushing a lock of hair out of his face, or wiping a stray bit of frosting off Tony’s lips with his thumb as he laughed. After Tony delivered his heartfelt speech of congratulations to the happy newlyweds, he received a peck on the cheek from a teary Pepper, a too-tight tug from a definitely-not-about-to-cry Happy… and the softest, sweetest brush of lips over his own from James, who then took his hand and held it tightly through the rest of dinner.

Tony was sure they looked besotted with each other, which was what he’d been going for. Pepper had gushed about his good taste and how wonderful they looked together during most of the dance they’d shared, and made him _promise_ to hold on to this one. James bonded with Happy over boxing, and he thought they might have even exchanged numbers. The man schmoozed the business contacts that had been invited, charmed Pepper’s mother and younger sister, looked criminally handsome in his tuxedo and generally made Tony look like the luckiest son-of-a-bitch in the universe for landing such a catch.

It was awful, to be so close to everything he wanted and know it was all fake. Once they were back in New York, Bucky would go back to his attitude of benevolent neglect. Tony would be ‘Steve’s friend’ again, not ‘doll’ or ‘sweetheart’, not even just ‘Tony’. They weren’t even _friends_ , and fuck this had been such a mistake. How could he go back to that, when he knew what it could have been if Bucky had liked him back? If he wasn’t such a fuck up, such a failure; if he’d been someone Bucky deserved, they could have had this. This could have been real.

Instead it was pretend, a game James was playing as a favor to Steve’s stray.

This fucking _sucked_

~.~.~

“You rich bastards sure know how to throw a party. Fuck, do you eat food like that every day?” Okay, so Bucky in a tux was sinfully gorgeous, but this? This was just the most perfect thing he’d ever seen, and it threatened to bring him to his knees so he could _beg_ to worship the man with his hands, his mouth, his everything. As soon as they’d walked through the door of their hotel suite, the man had undone his bowtie but left it hanging around his neck. His jacket was the next thing to go – the expensive piece of clothing was lying abandoned on the floor in a sad little pile.

Well, Tony would be sad too, if he’d been able to hug tight to Bucky’s figure all night only to be thrown away.

Shit. He might be a little tipsy.

That or just drunk on Bucky, who was sprawled out on the sofa with his arms stretched over the back and his legs spread wide. The top three buttons of his shirt were undone, giving Tony mouthwatering glimpses of tanned, muscular skin every time he moved. He’d even rolled up his sleeves to bare his forearms, and _fuck_ it wasn’t fair of him to be so goddamned sexy. He wanted to straddle his lap and take the man’s long hair out of the man-bun he’d put it in, wanted to kiss and bite at Bucky’s plump lower lip, wanted to suck at the lean line of his neck until he left a mark that would let everyone know that he was Tony’s.

“I could, I guess,” he answered as he crossed to the window instead, fingers working at his own tie. “Mostly I eat whatever Dum-E brings me.” Giving a careless shrug, he gazed at the city lights stretched out below them and wished he’d thought to keep his Malibu home for just a few days longer. Pep and Happy had been thrilled with the present, and with the remodeling that was already underway, but he should have waited because if he had, he and Bucky could have had their own space to retreat to. He wouldn’t have had to book them a single suite for appearances sake, and he wouldn’t be here making small talk when all he wanted to do was plead with Bucky to look at him, notice him, love him.

It was fucking torture.

“Jesus Tony. You gotta get a chef or something. That was the best meal I ever tasted. I’d kill to eat like that.” Now there was a thought – he could bribe Bucky into dates with free food.

“If I got a chef, Buckaroo, I’d have to eat on a schedule. I don’t _do_ schedules – I’m a free soul, and refuse to be tied down by the clock or the meager wants of this mortal body.” A husky chuckle coming from somewhere behind him only encouraged him to continue. “Good food or no, I refuse to bring in someone who will try and force three meals a day down my throat, interrupting my ‘shop time at – I shudder to think of it – regular intervals. And the menu planning, Buckster. The _menu planning_. Do you have any idea what that entails? Meetings. Weekly meetings where if you don’t know which wine goes with which meat you’ll be judged and gossiped about in all the most fashionable of circles. A friend of my mother’s once had the utter _gall_ to pair a spring vegetable dish with a vintage more suited to fall flavors over twenty years agao and she is being shunned _to this day_.” 

He paused, thought about that for a moment, then turned to face Bucky again, grinning.

“Actually, that sounds fantastic. Want to be my chef, Buckarooni? The two of us together could turn me into a pariah in no time, and I’d never have to associate with any of those ass-hats for the rest of my life.”

There it was again, that husky, smoky chuckle that sent shivers up and down his spine. He loved when he could draw it out of Bucky – the man didn’t laugh enough, in his humble opinion. “Sorry ta disappoint, but I can’t cook for shit.”

“Even better!”

“Nah. How ‘bout you just hire a chef _and_ me? I’ll take care-a all the menu planning and stuff, and taste-test.”

“Ah, but will you protect me from being put on a regular eating schedule?”

“Fuck no. You need ta eat more anyway.”

“Rude. Dum-E feeds me fine.”

“Dum-E makes you smoothies.”

“Very nutritious ones.”

“Didn’t know motor oil was part of a balanced diet.”

“Look, he tries his best, alright? Don’t make fun of my poor bot. I finished his code when I was seventeen and blackout drunk. It’s not his fault he’s a bit… special.” Bucky only laughed again, shifting a little on the couch before patting the empty seat next to him.

“C’mere, will ya? Making me nervous, with all that standing around.” Rolling his eyes, Tony reluctantly crossed the room to join him, pulling off his own jacket as he did. Unlike the heathen barbarian who was still doing mad things to his heart and stomach, he made sure to hang his on the back of a chair before he plopped down on the sofa as well. Much to his surprise, Bucky didn’t drop his arm off the back or close his legs; the result was their thighs lightly touching and Bucky’s prosthetic fingers brushing over his shoulders whenever he shifted.

“Thanks again for doing this,” he started, deciding that rambling would be the best way to keep from dwelling on the sensation of being so close to Bucky. Christ, he could feel his warmth and smell his cologne, and he just wanted this day to be over so he could rub one out in the shower and then go to sleep. “I know it can’t have been fun, hanging out with a bunch of boring rich people you don’t really know and me. I’m not boring at least, but I know you’re not super fond of me, which, you know, is fair. I’m kind of a pain the ass and maybe even a little annoying, but if you tell Steve I said that I’ll deny it forever.” Bucky had gone sort of still next to him, and when he peeked up at the man’s face it was adorned with a little frown, his eyes unreadable. “Because I love Steve and all, and I know I’m pretty much awesome and he adores me, but he says I’m irritating all the time and he can’t know that I already knew that. It’s a game, and I’m winning, but that wasn’t what I was trying to say. I just wanted to say thanks. You were great. Pep-” Tony’s throat tightened, but he plowed ahead, because if he stopped talking he might have to hear what was _behind_ that furrowed brow.

“Pep loved you, and so did Happy. They’re gonna be real sad when we – uh, ‘James’ and I break it off. You shouldn’t have to come to any more events, at least.” Shit, shit, shit, Bucky still wasn’t moving, looked to be barely breathing. He’d clearly done something wrong, but he couldn’t figure out _what_ … so he just kept going while his brain spun. “I’m glad you liked the food, but I’m sorry you had to be with me. You had quite a few people panting after you, because you are like… pure sex in a tux. Seriously, you beat me in the handsome fucker department, and that’s not an easy thing to do. Not that I was, you know… ah. Anyway. If anyone caught your eye you should let me know. Once me and ‘James’ are over, I could, you know, get you in touch with any of them. If you want. No pressure or anything, since I know you hate us ‘rich bastards’ and all, and I-”

“Tony.” Slowly, very slowly, Bucky took his arm off the back of the couch, bringing both hands to his lap; his flesh fingers are clasping his prosthetic ones so hard his knuckles were white. He also shifted enough that they weren’t touching thighs anymore, and fuck. He’d fucked something up. “We came… together.” His voice was rough and uncertain, and god he just wanted to run, maybe go down to the bar and grab a couple glasses of scotch.

“Yeah. I mean, with you as my fake boyfriend. I don’t… don’t expect you to do that forever, you know.”

“Right. Fake.” Now there was a tight edge to Bucky’s words, and Tony felt his heart beating frantically in his chest. “But as far as they all know, we’re together, yeah? Deep in love, been datin’ for close ta a year, right?”

“Little over a year, I guess.” Not a guess – he’d been with James for exactly one year and two months. The fact that he remembered _that_ anniversary and not the one he’d shared with Pepper was really, really pathetic. “I figure we’ll ‘break up’ soon, and then if you want-”

“Want you ta what, pimp me out? They think we’re together, and after we’re done, you just wanna… hand me over ta one of ‘em? You do that for all your exes?”

“Uh. The ones who ask? I like people to be happy, and if they meet someone while they’re with me and I can help them out after we’re already over, then… why not? Besides, most of my relationships aren’t serious, so I don’t really care.”

“But me’n you… you and _James_ **are** serious.”

“Yeah.”

“And those people all know it.”

“I guess.”

“You gu- Jesus Christ Tony. No, I don’t want you to fucking _set me up_ with any-a the assholes that tried to flirt with me in front of the guy they thought was my fucking boyfriend.”

“You sound angry.”

“No shit.”

“… why?”

Bucky exploded off the couch and began to pace, his expression stormier than Tony had ever seen it. He was an idiot and an asshole for finding that as hot as he did. “Dunno what kinda guy you think I am, but you’re an _asshole_.” Yup, called it… though Bucky seemed to have a different set of reasons for the title. “I came with you, and you… you just. Fuck. Those dames and guys that flirted with me – I don’t fuckin’ want ‘em. They’re slime balls for doing that while I was with _you_ , and that ain’t the kind of person I want to make time with. B’sides, what do you think it would say about me if I did take you up on that, huh? It’d look like I was only with you to meet other people, only until I find someone ‘better’, and I’m not that fucking prick, Tony. That ain’t me, and I didn’t know you thought so fucking little of me.”

“But-” Tony started, ready to splutter out a protest. He thought the _world_ of Bucky, and he’d only offered because Bucky deserved the best, and Tony knew damn well that wasn’t him. He couldn’t _say_ that though, because the man was already pissed, so this was definitely not the time to be confessing and get him even more upset. There were other ways to explain of course, or Tony could just apologize and de-escalate the situation, but he was panicking and feeling more than a little overwhelmed. So what escaped instead, very unhelpfully, was probably the worst sentence he could have chosen to use to try and save himself. “That’s the way everyone is with me!”

Silence fell along with Bucky’s jaw, the man finally stopped in his tracks to stare at Tony… who now felt like shit. Bucky wasn’t _anything_ like the parasites that had surrounded him for most of his life. He wasn’t like anyone else, period, and to have lumped him in with them was terrible. It was, quite possibly, one of the worst insults he could have chucked at the man, but he just didn’t know how to take it back. He didn’t know how to _fix this_. He was a brilliant engineer, but absolutely shit with other people, and this had all gone so wrong.

Without a word, Bucky turned and stomped off to the only bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. Tony didn’t know if he was supposed to go after him, or give him space for a bit, or if he was supposed to leave entirely. If it weren’t so late, he’d call Steve and ask for advice, but he couldn’t wake up the tiny blond – not without incurring Bucky’s further wrath. Paralyzed with indecision, feeling self-loathing twist around in his innards, Tony sat there, staring at the floor.

Well. He’d planned on sleeping on the sofa anyway, and there was probably some scotch in the mini-fridge he could use to help him feel a little less wretched.

~.~.~

Tony didn’t know what time it was when he half-stirred from slumber, a large shadow looming over him in the dark. He wasn’t scared or nervous, because he’d recognize even Bucky’s outline anywhere. “’M sorry,” he slurred, not sure if he was still drunk or if it was just sleep making his lips a bit uncooperative. “Di’nt mean…” This had to be a dream, because a warm hand cupped his cheek and he felt a thumb brush tenderly over his skin. Bucky never touched him, not before the stupid wedding debacle. After their disagreement, he highly doubted Bucky would ever touch him again. That was a bit sad, but it meant he could be as honest as his drowsy mind wanted to be. “Sorry. Love you. Sorry.”

Dream-Bucky voiced a quiet sigh, and his fingers skimmed over his cheek to stroke through his hair several times. It was a nice feeling, one that led to Tony closing his eyes; as he slipped back into darkness and another dream, he felt strong arms gathering him up, bringing him to rest against a muscled chest. He couldn’t help but whimper as he curled against Dream-Bucky – even in his fantasies, he didn’t get to keep this for longer than a few moments, because the dark was already dragging him back under. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair, it wasn-

~.~.~

When he woke up for real, it was to sunlight streaming over him and Bucky himself lying next to Tony in bed. Not just next to – entwined with was a much better way to describe it. Their legs were tangled under the thin sheet, and Bucky had his only arm slung over Tony’s middle – he could see the prosthetic laying on the dresser, and it made him feel all warm and gooey inside to know Bucky felt comfortable enough to remove it in his presence. The man’s head was pillowed on Tony’s shoulder, his soft brown hair tickling his chin and nose, and it was just... just the most perfect way to wake up ever.

He’d even take it over a blowjob, which really showed his growth as a person in his opinion.

The problem, of course, was that he had _not_ gone to bed with Bucky Barnes. Their night had ended with Bucky shutting himself away and Tony drinking six mini-bottles of scotch from the mini-fridge before drifting off to a miserable night of sleep. There was a vague memory rattling around in his brain, but he couldn’t quite catch it, couldn’t figure out why he was here. Shit, had he burst into the room like some creepy, drunk stalker? God, at least he’d kept his clothes on in that case, but fuck this was awkward and probably meant he really needed to try therapy again. Bucky hadn’t taken the arm off knowing Tony would see him like this, hadn’t gone to sleep expecting to wake up to Tony, and shit, shit, shit this was _so bad_. He hadn’t had to sneak out of a hotel room in a long time, so he hoped his skills weren’t too rusty, because he needed to get the hell out of here, and-

“Fer fuck’s sake,” a pair of warm, plump lips muttered into his shoulder. “Go back to sleep, doll. It’s…” Bucky stopped, clearly unsure of what time it actually was. He quickly seemed to determine that didn’t matter much. “Early. It’s early and we were up mosta the night. Stevie might like getting’ up at the ass crack-a dawn, but I like to _sleep_.”

“… … I think I might still be asleep.”

“Nah. Try again.” Now Bucky sounded amused and drowsy, and he wasn’t moving away at all. If anything, he was squirming closer, tucking himself carefully against Tony. This was… this could not be happening.

“Stroke then.”

“Mmn. Don’t think so.”

“How would you know? I don’t think stroke-induced hallucinations know much about medical science.”

“Don’t think a guy havin’ a stroke would have some impressive morning wood goin’ on.” Tony groaned in both embarrassment and arousal as Bucky pressed a teasing thigh against the bulge in trousers. He thought he should probably pull back – it would be rude to take advantage of a stroke-induced hallucination, wouldn’t it? – but instead found himself pressing one of his own legs forward. He wanted, _needed_ to know if Bucky was having the same, ah, ‘issue’.

He was.

“Holy shit.”

“Hmmmm… good as that feels, doll,” Bucky murmured, stilling his hips and putting his hand on Tony’s hip to force him to do the same. “We gotta talk before we do anything else.”

“I hate talking about real stuff.”

“I know.”

“If this is the hallucination I get before dying, it sucks and I want a refund.”

“Good thing it’s really happenin’ then, I guess.”

“Stop laughing at me inside. I can tell that’s what you’re doing.”

“Stop being an idiot and I’ll think about it.”

Okay, this might really be happening, in which case… “What the fuck?” His voice sounded strangled and high pitched even to his own ears, so he couldn’t really blame Bucky when he started to _actually_ laugh, letting out hot blasts of air Tony could feel perfectly even through his shirt. 

“Are you always this annoying when you first wake up?”

“… you’d have to ask Pep. Everyone else was always either gone, or I was.”

“So she was-”

“My only serious relationship. Ever.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah. I even talked about _feelings_ with her.”

“And you didn’t die?”

“… I guess not. Came close a couple times though.”

“Got through it though.”

“Still hated it.”

“Yeah, well, better not keep you from tryin’ with me. ‘Cause I wanna be serious, even if you think too fucking loud when you wake up. That means talkin’.”

“I… that’s… what?”

“Too early for it now,” Bucky continued, acting like Tony hadn’t interrupted. His thoughts were going at least seventy miles a minute, and he couldn’t get his heartrate under control. What the hell was going on? If this wasn’t a dream or a hallucination, then… then Bucky was really there, and they were really all wrapped up in each other, and the man was really talking about being _serious_ and _feelings_ , and… and… his brain really could not handle this. “But after we wake up’n get some food in us, we’re gonna have a long talk, Tony.”

“… how long?”

“Hours, at least.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“L’l bit.”

“Ass.” Tony grumbled, shifting to get a bit more comfortable against the pillows. Bucky was touching him, and seemed fine with their closeness, so he swallowed hard before reaching out to wrap his free arm around the other man. The fingers of his other hand were a bit numb, but he would honestly rather _lose_ the hand than the feel of Bucky resting on him. Carefully, hesitantly, he stroked the hand he could feel up and down Bucky’s back, relief and pleasure washing over him when the man breathed a happy sigh and melted against him.

“Part-a why you love me, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Shit. Wait. “I mean! That’s not… not like…” Lips pressing lightly against his shut him up fast, leaving him breathless and blinking. The kiss had ended almost before he could process it was happening, but… maybe that was okay. Maybe that was best, actually, because he didn’t want to kill Bucky with his morning breath during their first _real_ kiss.

“Told me last night, ya jerk. Don’t deny it now.”

“I… what?”

“I was so mad I couldn’t sleep for a while. When I finally went to the bathroom to piss and brush my teeth, you were sleepin’ on the couch. I just… I couldn’t… I dunno. Seein’ you like that was… you’re so small when you sleep, Tony. All small’n adorable, and vulnerable, ‘n… ‘n then you said…” Sighing, Bucky snuggled a little closer, and Tony gave a happy murmur of his own when the man nuzzled his neck. He wasn’t even irritated by all the stupid, sappy adjectives Bucky’d used to describe him – though if anyone else ever heard or said them, he’d go ballistic. “I dunno. Decided I wanted you here more’n I was mad.”

“I… didn’t think you’d ever want me here.” Tony whispered honestly, heart aching a little.

“That’s ‘cause you’re a fucking idiot.”

“You’re so nice to me, Bucky-bear.”

“Shut it. ‘M still mad. You try’n pimp me out to any-a those fuckers from the party and I’ll cut you.”

“Didn’t really want to anyway. None of them deserve you. I was just… I just started talking and then I couldn’t stop. That happens to me, you know. I kind of fuck thinks up. It’s my Thing. I’m a fuck up.”

“Is not. Your ‘thing’ is being smart and sexy. You’re not a fuck up, you idiot. Stop saying that – nobody’s allowed to talk bad about my best guy.” Tony’s throat went dry, and he thought that it would be totally understandable if he passed out.

“I… you… your best guy, huh?”

“Uh-huh. Boyfriend sounds fucking dumb.”

“So we… you and me… we’re… really?”

“… do you… want to?”

“Fuck yes.” Tony answered swiftly and certainly, the scared vulnerability in Bucky’s voice overriding his panic and need to protect himself. “Since I met you. I didn’t… I didn’t think _you_ would ever want this.”

“I did. I do. I kept wantin’ ta… but you’re all smart and rich, and for a while I thought maybe you and Stevie migh-”

“Oh my god. Eww. Shit. Never say that again – I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.”

“What the fuck’s wrong with Stevie?”

“Nothing! Jesus. He’s just… he’s like a little brother. An annoying, pain in the ass little brother who I love even when I want to strangle him, but I don’t want to… ew. No. I mean, would _you_ want to…?”

“… okay, I see what you mean.”

“Exactly. You two are platonic soulmates, like me and Rhodey. There’s nothing _wrong_ with him – he’s a fucking spitfire, and someone’s going to be real lucky to land him. Just won’t be me.”

“Yeah. I got that after-a while. Still didn’t think you’d want me.”

“Why the hell wouldn’t I?”

“’M not exactly a catch, doll.”

“ _ **Fuck** that_ ,” Tony disagreed vehemently, practically growling as he tugged Bucky as close as he could, holding him tightly. “You’re… you’re everything, Buck-a-boo.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. If I have to not think of myself as a fuck-up, you have to start thinking of yourself as the most amazing, beautiful person ever.”

“That’s-”

“Fucking fair, that’s what it is.”

“Watch your goddamn mouth. This was supposed ta be a short, sappy talk b’fore we fell back ta sleep. So stop swearing, asshole.”

“Fuck you.”

“Later.”

“That… really?”

“Mmm. After we talk.”

“This is a talk.”

“Shut it. We’re gonna have more sleep, and food, and then a _real_ talk about feelings and all that shit. A’right?”

“… if we have to.”

“We do.” Tony let out a huff of annoyance, but nodded before burying his face in Bucky’s hair. “Thanks doll.”

“So… we’re a thing? For real. Forev… for a long time? I don’t have to tell Pep we broke up?”

“Mmmhmmm.”

“I can call you James around her so she doesn’t figure it out and murder me with a stiletto?”

“Yeah. … kinda like it when _you_ say it. Make everyone else call me Bucky though.”

“And you’re really, really sure I’m not in the middle of a stroke?”

“Tony. Shut the fuck up’n lemme sleep.”

“Yeah. Yeah okay. James.” He felt Bucky smiling into his neck, warmth and happiness flooding his entire system. When paired with the warmth of the sun and Bucky himself, and the plush feel of the bed beneath them, it was enough to have him thinking that a little more sleep wouldn’t be bad. Normally, he’d grab his tablet or phone and work in bed so Bucky could sleep while he was productive, but… well.

He was comfortable and warm, wrapped up in Bucky and the sun, and maybe – just maybe – his ‘biggest mistake’ was actually the best fucking thing that had ever happened to him.

A nap while all snuggled up to Bucky sounded like the _perfect_ way to celebrate.


End file.
